Mia's story
by MiaPotter92
Summary: What happens when a girl several years younger than Harry Potter who has had nothing to do with the war finds herself thrown back into a time that she was never meant to be a part of? I own nothing but my OC and any other OC's I may come up with upon my merry little way!
1. Chapter 1

Have you ever heard of the butterfly effect? Where one small, insignificant, teeny little action can change the course of the entire future...of course most of you have, it's a fairly popular theory. Apparently there's just that one little action that elicits a consequence- a reaction if you will, which causes an effect which changes the perception of something and so on and so on for an indefinite period of time. Have you, however heard of one small, insignificant, teeny tiny little action that can change the course of the last 40 years as well as the entire future? No, me neither...or not until now at least. So what was it that caused me to be in the library at that exact time? Was it a coincidence? Was it fate? Was it Professor Humdinkle's knack for being a complete douchefart and setting N.E.W.T. level essays when we've only just started 6th year and are already pretty far behind? Was it the fact that I had orange squash with my toast instead of my usual cup of tea this morning which led to a lengthy discussion about routine with my friends which led to me forgetting about aforementioned essay for which I needed a book from the library for, until an indecent time of night? Who knows, but the fact remains that for whatever reason, I was in the Hogwarts library at that indecent time of night and got myself cornered by a handful of creepers in cloaks and masks. Who, where, when, what, why or whatever caused me to be there isn't important just yet because it's the consequence of my being there that matters...so yeah, flash forward to my present and here I am.

The last thing I remember was a bright orange light hitting me right in my chest followed straight by a pink one and narrowly being missed by a bright green jet of light, then there was a flash of purple...not the jet of colour from a jinx this time but more of a burst of colour illuminating everything and then I hit the ground with an agonising impact. Everything hurts, trying to move hurts, my head hurts, my limbs hurt, my chest hurts. I can feel my energy dwindling away and each breath I take requires more and more effort, every inhale causes a jolt of pain through the entirety of my torso and my lungs to tighten painfully which leads me to inhale sharply and repeat the whole process...except each time my breath comes a little shallower and shallower...I don't know how to fix it, I just want the pain to stop but it can't- pain means I'm alive, I have to keep breathing if I want to live... and I do. I don't want to die, I _can't _die, I'm not ready. I realise my eyes are closed and it takes an immeasurable amount of time before I succeed in opening them again, it took several moments before my vision cleared enough to make out the tree branches looming over me and the bushes I was lay next to. Tree branches? Bushes? In the library? What, did they dump me in the Forbidden Forest while I was unconscious or something? Fuckers. It didn't seem as though I was in the forest though, the trees were too far apart and the flowers looked too well tended, I couldn't think on it more as I realised the pain was dulling and my vision was becoming even more out of focus and it frightened me, I didn't like the pain but I had just established that pain meant life! My breathing hitched and became faster and shallower, the faster my breaths came the shallower they were and the shallower they were the faster they came. Fuck.

Realising my eyes had shut I wrenched them open, I wasn't ready for this, I'm wasn't ready to go and if death wanted me you can be damn sure that I'm going to fight it off until my heart stopped- even if that inevitability was coming at the very least half a century too soon as far as I was concerned. Oh bloody hell, I've always said that I didn't want to die a virgin and yep, here I am, my life slipping away with every stupid, shitty bloody second that goes past and not only am I still a virgin but I've never even been kissed. _Fuck you fate, destiny, or whatever the hell deity exists, just fuck you. Actually no, if I'm not getting fucked, neither are you so curse you, a plague upon your house! Yeah, that'll teach you to mess with me._ Some rustling and the sound of twigs snapping interrupted my internal angst,

"-telling you, s'definitely around here somewhere." Said a male voice I didn't recognise.

_Oh God_, I thought, _they're coming back to finish the job. They're going to kill me, I don't stand a chance. _Well, that'll teach me to try and curse fate/destiny/some sort of deity. _They act fast_, I thought bitterly.  
I was powerless to stop the possibilities of what they could do from running through my mind, there were so many kinds of torture, would they stick to wizarding methods like the Cruciatus curse or would they beat me and/or rape me...I remembered the atrocities the Daily Prophet reported during the war, I knew that they weren't above such things-I'd rather they just out right killed me. My breathing had become even more erratic, it was loud and rasping, even to my numbed hearing; praying silently but fervently that they wouldn't find me I frantically made an effort to calm myself down.

"I don't see anything Prongs, are you sure you saw it wasn't just an effect from the flash? Plus, your eyesight's less reliable than a dead badger's so maybe it was just nothing and you're dragging us around in bushes pointlessly." Replied a second male.

Prongs? Did I hear that right? But then it could be a code name of course; Death Eaters wouldn't use real names in a public place.

"Or maybe that was your plan all along, to get poor, unsuspecting, little old me into the neck of the forest where you'd take advantage of the isolation and blackmail me into doing you sexual favours! You whore!" Proclaimed the second male in a faux dramatic voice.

"Don't be an idiot all your life Pad." Replied a third voice in a dry tone as someone scoffed and replied.

Three. There are three of them and I am going to die. The fact sank in and it made me cold, my eyes lost focus for several moments as I became extremely dizzy. _My wand_! It suddenly occurs to me that I'm a witch, a witch who can do magic as long as she had a wand.

"God, you're dumb." A voice in my head tells me.

Maybe I can reach into my jeans pocket and heal myself enough so that I can hide and try and get back in school. After waiting impatiently for the bout of dizziness to fade away I go to reach for my wand, but my arm doesn't seem to want to co-operate with me very much, I had just slightly moved it when a flash of pain hit me centring in my elbow and radiating throughout the entire limb making my teeth clench and my heart stutter and I gasp and let out a frightened whimper. _Fuck._

"I'm too pretty for y-"

"Shut up" Said the voice that had told off 'Pad' sharply, "I think I can hear something."

Shit. I lifted up my arm to bring my hand to my mouth in an attempt to stifle the rasping noises that were becoming incessant and noisy and drawing attention but that turned out to be the wrong thing to do as a wave of pain shot down my arm and made me cry out. A moment of tense silence follows, and then,

"This way, there's someone here." I hear one of the voices whisper loudly. I can't make out the replies over the combination of sound of my rasps and the snapping of twigs, cursing my stupidity internally I figure there's no point in wasting my energy with trying to control my breathing now. The rustling sounds mere feet away and the pain's not just stopping at radiating up and down my arm but is inching across my chest causing a tightening sensation; within seconds it all becomes too much, the pain, the dizziness, the situation I'm in and my injuries- I just want it to stop. I can feel my lungs protesting from the lack of oxygen, they feel constricted and I stop trying to fight. I allow my eyelids to slide shut and let the pain take over me hoping that I'll at least lose unconsciousness before the footsteps found me, not willing to face whatever these three have in store for me. My mind wanders and I think about my friends, wondering if they've noticed I'm missing yet- I told them I'd be about twenty minutes tops...surely it's been more than that by now. They had better cry when I'm discovered missing and at least one of them should name a child after me...a first born child. Something I realise that I'll never have, I realise suddenly.

_I'll never fall in love, or make silly mistakes that I should learn from only to repeat them again. I'll never get proposed to or have a family of my own. I'm sixteen years old; I should have all these things to look forward to and I'm not going to get any of them, I think bitterly._ _I don't even get to graduate._

I'd rather my life flashed before my eyes than this morbid realisation, my mouth let out a weakened, strangled sob. I can hear someone talking near one of my ears but I can't figure out what they're saying and a hand feels hot against my cheek but – I don't know how to explain it- it doesn't feel like it normally does, it's as though all my senses have been numbed to some extent.

_I guess they've found me_ I think emotionlessly, _at least it won't take long for them to finish the job._ Who says there isn't a silver lining?

I feel hands on my torso and fingers probing my neck and I flinch away slightly as a surge of pure terror overtake the emotionless state I was in. I wish my emotions and thoughts were numbed like my physical senses, the concept of rape is my worst nightmare and I'd no doubt rather die first.

"N-no, p-p-pl...ease" I can't help but let fear override my pride- some Gryffindor I turn out be.

The hands on my neck still their movements and move away, I can vaguely hear a voice –or more than one having a conversation. Maybe they're talking about how stupid I am, trying to plead with Death Eaters. Unsure whether or not they were laughing at my request or showing surprise that I still had enough life in me to be somewhat coherent I had no choice but to lie there while they talked about me. I strained my ears, focusing on the incessant hum that was their conversation trying to make out words, I'd probably regret it after I hear what they're saying but I can't take just lying there not knowing what was going to happen.

"-g to live that long if we don't do something now." One of them said urgently.

"_We can't. _Whoever did this used dark magic, it's not something we can fix ourselves and if we try we'll kill her.

Wait, fix...what? Aren't they just going t kill me anyway? My head spins as I consider the thought that may actually be sick enough to want to heal me just so that they can hurt me some more.

"Why isn't James back, do you think they're here?" For a soulless, evil killer this one almost sounded anxious and for some reason I find this amusing; a broken chuckle sounds from my mouth that comes across rather hysterical and breaks off with my breath getting caught in my throat which takes several tense moments to clear, just long enough that it makes me think that it's not going to, but when it does I realise the response the anxious Death Eater's companion is saying has broken off.

Oh my bad, do continue.

"It can't hurt to try, I suppose."

Wait, yes it can! Whatever they want to try can absolutely hurt, maybe not them but helloooo, can a girl not die in peace nowadays! Besides, I was being sarcastic, sheesh. I wonder if it's normal to have these mood swings when you're bleeding out, I mean in the space of...well, I don't really know but it can't have been too long I've gone from scared and slightly reflective to emotionless to terrified to facetiously amused to curious to amused- I don't think this is normal.

"What shall we start with?"

_How about pissing off?_ I think.

They don't sound very old to be honest, maybe around my age or so. Again, letting curiosity overtake my senses I open my eyes, it takes a while for my eyes to get into focus and even then things are quite blurry. Sight confirmed what I already knew; there were two guys here, plus the one that had gone somewhere whose name I'd forgotten. They were knelt on either side of me and my guess was right, they were around my age- maybe a few years older. One was sandy haired and the other black haired, I couldn't help but notice even through the blurriness that they were rather good looking (what, I'm grievously injured not dead, give a girl a break!). On the one si- _Oh God, why is he pointing his wand at me?! _

"Sshhhh, it's okay we're not going to hurt you." The black haired one said.

_Oh sure_ I thought slightly hysterically, _as soon as you put the damn wand down!_ My breath caught and this time I couldn't regain it, my head span and the wave of dizziness made me clench my eyes closed.

"You need to calm down pet; the more you panic the worse it'll be."

These guys need to work on their calming down techniques because seriously, they suck. At this point my arm was throbbing incessantly, my lungs tightened as I still couldn't catch my breath, my chest hurt, everything inside of me felt broken and heavy and one of my legs –I couldn't tell you which-felt as though it was on fire, I hadn't even realised I had injured it. I thought the pain was supposed to die down the closer you are to death in situations like this but this is excruciating.

A pair of hands places themselves on my face and a sharp voice is saying something I can't quite make out...

It sounds like the words are all connected making it sound like the irritating buzz of a bee. Heh. Buzz buzz buzzzzzzzzzzzzz. _God, I guess my mind's the first thing to go. _I think disparagingly.

My eyes flutter open slightly and see one of their faces right above mine and the other next to it-well it looks like they're floating head actually...it's a bit disconcerting if I'm frank.

But I'm not Frank, I'm me. Heh.

_Shut up, me. _

"Good girl, keep your eyes open darling, listen to me, focus on my voice,calm down, think **around** the pain, think of it as something separate from your body's normal function." The light haired floating head commands me.

I can't keep my eyes open; the daylight hurts them so I ignore him and let them close again.

"No, open your eyes, look at me, focus on my voice."

_I want to die, please just let me die, _I pray _just leave me alone and let me die. _

The pain wasn't stopping, with each second, each throb it intensifies. The hands are back on my face and this time more demanding and a hell of a lot more annoying, they pat me sharply on my cheek and when I don't respond they grasp my chin and shake my head sharply,

"Open your eyes, **now. Get up.**" This must be the other floating head, the first one's nicer.

Opening my eyes I contort my expression into a weak glare of irritation and my suspicions are right, the dark haired head is now in my face while the other one, the gentler –if the word gentle can be used on a Death Eater- is on the side.

"Keep them open. Do. Not. Close. Them." The bossy twat instructed me as he and his companion both move so that they're in my peripheral vision. Or they would be if my peripheral vision wasn't currently faulty and not available to see. One of them is holding their wand over me, clenching my teeth and moving my head so that I could see them, I see that, actually, they both have their wands out and aimed at me.

"-t with a diagnostic"

"We don't have time; she's already lost too much blood and she's struggling to breathe."

_I'm bleeding?_

"That won't fucking matter if they've cast certain spells on her then a simple healing charm will snuff her out long before blood loss and lack of fucking oxygen does. More painfully too."

_How pleasant. Pleasant as a picnic. _

"I still say we wait for James and Dad, Dad's had experience with stuff like this."

_Dad? Is this some sort of Death Eater family reunion? Maybe they'll drink my blood as wine and eat me for dessert._

"We don't have time, Pads we need to act now!

_Yes, please hurry up and heal me just so you can re-injure me. Oh, pretty please!_

If we wait much longer she's dead, she's already delirious"

_No I'm not._

"Fine, I'm starting with a diagnostic but if it picks anything up then we wait."

"And what if it is some kind of dark magic but one that isn't picked up with a diagnostic, then what?

There's no reply, the conversation stops here, I wasn't able to keep up with who was saying what but I managed to keep up with the conversation which was an achievement considering I think there's a bug in one of my ears. My airway opens slightly and allows me to take in some oxygen, instead of relieving the pain in my lungs it makes them throb like a bitch. The dark haired guy waved his wand over me and I braced myself just in case their version of a diagnostic spell varied from the one normal people who weren't Death Eaters cast, when nothing happened I relaxed slightly, thankful that they didn't add any more pain to what I was already feeling. A heavy silence hung in the air for several moments- long enough for me to wonder what they were going to do next.

"What now?" The sandy haired one asked.

The bossy one lowered his head so it was closer to mine. Woahhh_. _So the only time a guy this utterly sexy pays me any attention and he's going to be the death of me...great. _Can we say typical?_

"Did you feel anything? Did that hurt?" He asked.

If we were in any other situation it occurs to me that the first response that I'd think of and end up having to bite back to think of something suitable would be "Did it hurt when you fell out of my fantasies and into reality?" For some reason I found that rather funny and let out a giggle...well it was supposed to be a giggle but it sounded weird and stuttered and ended with a weak cough which sent spasms of agony shooting through me. _Is it too soon to be getting used to this? _

Focusing back on the two guys I saw that the third had come back, I couldn't really make out his face anymore or if any of them were saying anything, my hearing is literally completely blocked. I felt very light all of a sudden. On some level I'm kinda glad I'm not alone, they hadn't tortured me and it doesn't look as though they're going to get the time to either and this way I'm not alone- their presence is comforting in a round-a-about kind of way. One of them, I can't make out which is pointing a wand at me again and everything stops, there's no more pain until it feels as though something bursts inside me, it feels as though someone's cast the Cruciatus curse on each and every inch of my body and I black out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Interesting._

_I'm awake__,__ but I can't seem to move. _

_I spend a moment trying to take a mental analysis of my seeming limitations...my arms are there, I can feel them but I just can't move them- it's the same with my fingers, my legs, my toes, my face. I am breathing otherwise I wouldn't have this...this semi-consciousness or whatever it is. _

_Wait, am I breathing? _

_I can't tell, am I dead? Is this death, maybe I'm not breathing so maybe I am dead? Oh frik frik frik frik, how did I die? I don't remember anything before waking up; did I fall down the Hogwarts staircase or something? Was it accidental or did someone do this to me? Frik frik frik, what if I have to stay here like this until I remember, but what if I never remember?! It must have been accidental, things like murder don't happen in Hogwarts anymore, not sin- _

_Some thing's touching me...why is something touching me? I think someone's hand is on my forehead…_

_Maybe this is what happens when you don't get into heaven. I mean, I've never been religious, I never made up my mind on whether or not God exists, I was a horrible bitch in primary school and can be mean when I'm pushed and one time I got really, really drunk at a party and flashed my boobs. Okay so that's happened twice. Don't judge me, what it's not like you've never got drunk and done something stupid! Besides it's not my fault, my best friend suggested it...but what if all those things meant I have to spend eternity in this sort of blank consciousness. All those things though, they don't make me a bad person. I mean I know I've made some mistakes but isn't that part of being human? Besides I've done good things too, like... well I'm always there for my friends when they need me and I give to charity when I've got enough money spare to do so and...erm...I once brought a homeless guy a Greggs. _

_My life has been pretty average, I'm nothing remarkable, nothing about me or what I have done can be called amazing or remembered for years to come and I'm okay with that. I was an average, normal teenage girl who had passing crushes, liked shopping, argued with my parents about boundaries, hanging out with my friends and such. I've not been remarkably selfish and nor have I been remarkably selfless, I've been exactly what you'd expect a teenage girl to be- just with less romantic entanglements than most. Being a witch is enough for me. Magic is enough for me; it's been my release, my outlet, my escape. The time I spent in Hogwarts has been the best I could ever have imagined. To the school as a whole I've contributed nothing spectacular, my grades were average at best, I often forgot to hand in homework and had my fair share of detentions. Hogwarts and the magical world in general made me exceptional; it let me escape an average world where I was a considered freak so the feeling of being a normal person in a spectacular world was perfect for me. I think the only thing I really regret is never having fallen in love; it's the one thing I've always looked forward to._

_Who/whatever's touching me- it must be a someone because they have hands and fingers- is still doing it, but now they're doing something to my arms...lifting them up I think. Wait, hold on, if I can feel my body then surely that means I still have one...and I feel something so does that mean I'm alive? I'm confused; I don't know what's going on, can you still have a body when you're dead or am I still alive? I really need to stop asking myself questions, it's not like I'm getting a response or anything. _

"Her heart rate's accelerated" A voice near my head said, frightening the crap out of me.

_What complete cliché timing._

_Sooo, I have a heart rate, does that mean I'm alive? Sod it, I'm just going to assume I'm alive for now, debating with myself is getting boring. _

_The hands then move to one of my legs, lifting it up causing the pain to return. This time I feel each of my body's responses, my back arches as the pain coursing through the entirety of my body, my fists clutching at the bed clothes and my legs straighten, I can't wrap my mind around the pain, I can feel every part of my body the pain reaches, I can't think around it- it's the focal point of my body and mind. _

_I don't pass right out this time, I can feel unconsciousness creep up on me bit by bit but it doesn't numb my senses, it does the opposite, the less conscious I become the higher the pain level becomes- or the more aware of it I become- it's impossible to know which. It's understandable how people lose their sanity to pain such as this; it eats away at you like some sort of parasite, stripping you of your senses, reducing you to nothing but a bundle of nerves seeking release in any way possible._

_As quickly as the pain comes, it stops...no warning, no gradual fading away, it just completely stops leaving nothing but an unnatural numbness that seeps into my mind and lures my already retreating semi-consciousness into a void of nothing-no thinking, no feeling. Just...nothing. _

_I vaguely become aware of someone screaming and a second later realise that it's me; I'm the one screaming...my body's reactions haven't yet caught up with the abrupt end of its agony. My screaming cuts off when a vile tasting liquid is poured down my throat. Stupid motherfuc- _I don't get to finish that thought as I black out again.

...

...

A bright light shines through my lids rousing me, this time I can open my eyes. After the initial few moments my eyes adjust enough to see that I lay in a darkened room by myself. White. That's what I'm surrounded by- white ceiling, white walls, white bed sheets. It wasn't the sterile, white hospital-like room that had awoken me though- at least I think it wasn't...was it a part of a dream that I don't remember or was there something else-some_one_ else in here with me? I listen to see if I can hear the sound of footsteps or someone breathing...but nothing. No footsteps, no breathing, no other patients, no nurses, just complete and utter silence. I don't know where I am but the total silence is deafening and eerie to my eardrums; alarm bells go off in my head telling me that I have to get out of my bed and out of this room as soon as possible; I move my arms, testing my limbs to see if they were in cooperation with my mental facilities and to my relief it doesn't let me down. I struggle to find balance on my two feet and have to lean on the wall t keep from falling. Focusing on the prospect of being out of this room I take a few shaky steps towards the door.

It takes a longer than I like and a couple of stumbles before I reach the door. The longer I'm in the room, the stronger the pull to get out of the room becomes. Putting my hand on the door handle, I twist it half expecting it to be locked but to my relief it opens easily and silently, I shuffle forward, still leaning against the wall until I reach the doorway and slowly poke my head around, preparing myself to quickly pull it back in case of any curses, but no, it's empty here too.

The room I'm in is in the middle of a long, white corridor, the roof is low down and the corridor stretches on further than I can see, it makes me feel as though I'm in the creepier version of Alice in Wonderland. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle, standing on end and I feel cold, I don't know whether or not the temperature's dropped just now, or that I'm only just becoming aware of the frigidness of the air but I don't think about it for long though as I get an overpowering feeling that I'm being watched and that I have to move _now_.

My breath catches, moving my head back I take a deep breath and brace myself, I put my weight entirely on my shaky legs and clumsily put one leg out of the door half expecting a severing curse to come hurtling right at it and when it doesn't I follow with my other and look either way. Before I even think about which way to go, the urge I had telling me to get out of that room returns, but this time it tells me to go left. I don't know whether to carry on listening to this urge or not. I can't tell if my instincts are telling me what to do or if it's something more sinister. Is this how the imperious curse works?

Testing, I turn to the right and take a few steps. Nothing happens, the urge to go left doesn't intensify, but it doesn't fade either like it does when I do what it wants. I take another step right, just to see and again, nothing.

Maybe, I'm just being overly paranoid, but you do hear of people following their instincts and it saving their lives so maybe that's what this is. Turning back around I walk to the left which is indistinguishable from the right, a little voice in my head notes pointlessly. My footsteps- I'm not wearing any shoes so my feet are slapping against the floor tiles- anywhere else would be quiet, but here in the eerie silence seem to echo off the walls of the empty corridor. A shiver passes through my body. The feeling that I'm being watched hasn't faded away as I keep walking, I turn my head around but there's no one behind me, there are no air vents or windows or keyholes in any doors-or even any other doors for that matter- that someone could be peeping through.

I hear a door slam, whirling around I see the door to the room I was in, the one that I'd left wide open now shut. There's no excuse for it, there were no windows in there and there's none here for a gust of wind to blow through and cause it to shut.

I realise two things, one following straight after the other: first of all, that I don't have my wand, it wasn't in my room and it's not in my pocket like I'd assumed because the hospital gown I realise I'm dressed in has no pockets and no hidey places to put it, and second, just how vulnerable I am; I'm a sitting duck to anyone or anything that comes my way. So basically, I'm screwed. There's nothing I can do but keep walking forwards and pray for freedom, so that's what I do-quickly and fervently. It's funny how quick people are to turn to God when in a crisis, I note. It's also funny the things you'll think of when in a crisis, you'd think the only thing I'd be focused on is escape, but there seems to be a part of my brain that is in denial over the severity of this situation and is determined to make light of it. It's not helping, and if it's not helping me then it's not needed right now and needs to _shut up. _Blocking each and all thoughts of anything but getting out of here, I focus on moving forward and continue walking.

And walking.

And walking.

This corridor doesn't seem to have an end. There have been a few bends, left and right turns with what I think are my instincts telling me which way to go and I've passed a fair few doors that I've had no urges to go through, but no end. I've lost track of how long I've been walking, whether it's been around 10 minutes or an hour I couldn't say, but my legs are in agony, I keep getting shooting pains through my chest and right arm and I have gotten a few dizzy spells that have forced me to stop until it had passed enough to keep walking. Whatever happened to me must have been bad, my injuries h ave been patched up and they still hurt like a bitch.

I'm so thirsty, my throat feels parched and dry. No sooner do I notice my thirst than I turn round a bend in the corridor and there, on the left is a water dispenser and a single plastic cup . This is not a coincidence, maybe this place works like the Room of Requirement is said to. Feeling excitement bubble up in my chest, I think of an exit in my head...nothing happens. Maybe I need to keep walking for it to appear, so that's what I do, but nope, nada. No doors, no big sign leading me to the exit, nothing.

Feeling bitter, I consider ignoring the water dispenser but I'm dehydrated and I don't think passing out here would be all good of an idea. With a sigh I turn around and go to the blasted thing, after several cups of hastily drank water, I carry on walking yet again.

_Stop._ I'd been walking for another indefinite amount of time when another instinct surges through me with shocking strength so abruptly my legs catch up before my brain and the rest of my body do, leaving me in a slightly confused and very painful heap on the floor. My legs give out twice before I manage to get back to my feet, but when I do I don't know what to do next. _Go through the door._ I don't see a door, what doo-oh. On my right is a door that I'm pretty sure wasn't there a minute ago. The door itself is perfectly normal, an oak door that opens into the room it leads to, with an average sized gold door handle. Something inside is practically screaming at me to go through it, so that's what I do. Opening the door I'm faced with an empty closet sized room-again, white- that has a door identical to the one I just went through on the left hand side, _go through this door as well. _This door's not as easy to open, I tug on the handle to no avail. The urge to go through the door gets stronger and without thinking I slam my body and all of my weight behind it into the door which swings open. Lying on the floor, panting with pain throbbing through me I come to my senses, I don't know what came over me to body slam the door. I just knew I had to get through it, but why? I have to lean on the wall again to get back up, an ache in my left shoulder tells me that I've injured it further, I can move it, so maybe it's just dislocated or something. Ignoring the new addition to my injuries, I take stock of where I am- this room is slightly bigger than the previous one but again, is completely void of anything. The brightness of everything being completely white is giving me a migraine. The door I've just come through slams shut beside me, this time I saw that there was no one there on the other side closing it, whoever it is who's doing this must be doing so with magic.

Right next to that door, the one I've just come through is another, _go through it, it's the last one._ I've done everything my instincts have told me to up until this point but for some reason the prospect of going through this door scares the crap out of me. How on earth could I possibly know that this is the last door I'll have to go through? This door is identical to the rest - perfectly unassuming by all standards so I can't explain why I don't want to go though it into the next room. _Go. Go through it now. You have to. _I don't have to, I can stay right here and I **will **stay right here. _Go through it or I will kill you._ What?! _Go through that next door or die, it's up to you. _I think it's safe to say that whatever's telling me to go through the door is not my instincts. Shitshitshitshitshit, I don't know what to do, I should never have even gotten out of the bed, I co-oooh I'll go back!

As soon as I put my hand on the other door handle it doesn't move at all, instead it burns red hot and I get thrown back against the wall.

What the actual fuck was that?!

Winded, but not injured I manage to get back up. I stand for a moment contemplating the situation, I don't want to go through that door, but it seems like the only other alternative is to stay in this room-before I can come to any sort of conclusion or decision I notice a bright orange flickering in my peripheral vision.

**The entire wall on the opposite side of the doors is on fire. **

It's as though the flames were waiting for me to notice them before they start to advance on me because seconds after I'd noticed them they were creeping towards me, devouring the floor, the walls and the ceiling around me. This wasn't natural, fire's supposed to be wild but this, this is controlled...it's forcing me to the door and locking in around me leaving with two options: burn to death, or go through the stupid fucking door. The fire inches closer and closer to me by the second, I can feel the scorching heat of the flames though the smoke that's engulfing me and choking me. I can't move. I'm petrified, the room's too hot and the fire's too close to me...I should have gone through the door, anything's better than being charred, my breathing accelerates until I start sobbing hysterically which turns into hysterical chocking when the smoke and ashes go down my airways. I want to go through the door but I can't bring myself to turn away from the inferno, I'm scared that if I look away, when I look back they'll be right in front of me.

Black dots impair my vision and I know that I have to get a grip of myself or I will die. I don't know what's waiting for me behind that door but even if it's something terrible and I die then at least I'll know I tried. Taking one last look at the fire, it was just feet away from me at this point, I was burning just from the proximity- I steel myself and turn around, using my hands to feel around the wall trying to figure out where the door is.

The room spins around me, the combination of the smoke, the heat and my previously injured head is too much, I feel so dizzy.

I don't want to die, I can feel the fire closing in on me from behind. It's not even on me yet and it's already scalding my skin.

My hand brushes something hard, reaching back for it I grab a hold, not caring about the searing heat of it and push it down...it opens, I've found the door!

Not waiting a fraction of a second, I hurl my ass through that door, tripping on something on my way.

Lying face down, the now familiar sound of a door slamming shut sounds yet again...and I don't think I've ever appreciated it more. The more space between me and that fire, the better.

It feels like an eternity before I stop coughing and retching, I'm pretty sure I've thrown up on myself but I really don't care because I'm alive. I'd take vomit covered over charred to ashes any day!

It's only when I go to open my eyes I realise that they're already open and the room I'm in is completely pitch black. I can't hear the fire either anymore...am I still in the room that the door led to? I must be, where else could I be?! Someone must be playing a game of some sort...this momentarily annoys me more than it frightens me, does this sick twat think we're in Saw?

I don't have any compulsions at the present moment, only a hacking cough that makes me sound like a 90-something year old chain smoker. There's a putrid odour in the air that I put down to the fire that is so foul it makes my dry and itchy eyes water. I still feel nauseous but I'm alive, I tell myself yet again and I'll put up with any smell and queasiness for that simple reason.

_Get up_.

I spoke too soon. Fear overrides my irritation and I stumblingly get to my aching feet, tripping over once because of something my legs are entangled with. As soon as I'm up right, the lights turn back on dimly, it takes a long while for my eyes to get enough moisture in them and adjust from seeing nothing but shapeless blurs with black spots overriding them to being able to make out the lines on the linoleum flooring.

_Look. _A new compulsion orders me. Fearing the repercussions that'd come if I don't, I scan the room and immediately regret it. I take a few deep breaths but I can't keep it back, my stomach contracts and retches continuously, tears pour down my face and I fall to my knees. It's not the fire that's giving off the putrid odour, it's dead bodies.

There's so many of them. Dozens, heartlessly piled in several heaps throughout the room as though they're worth nothing more than cattle.

_Look at them. _

"I can't!" I yell hoarsely, "p-please, I c-c-ca-can't!"

_Look at them. _

Sobbing hard I can't help it, the urge overpowers my revulsion and I can't stop my head from turning and my eyes moving to the first heap of bodies in the furthest corner.

_Get closer, look at their faces._

"Oh God, oh God, I-I don't want t-to. P-p-plea"

_Do it, you have to do it. Now, or else. _

Getting up off my knees I walk over to the corner, the already poignant stink becomes even stronger, knowing that the smell in my nostril is the stench of rotting flesh makes me stomach contract and I throw up again.

Getting a hold of myself, I walk to the point where I'm the furthest away but can still see the poor people's faces.

...

...

No.

No.

It's wrong.

It's fake, it has to be.

I want to move away but I can't, my legs move me close to the heap so that I can see their faces more clearly. My thoughts are frozen but my mind registers each and every face in the pile.

And the next one.

And the next one.

Because I know them. I know each and every face of the people heaped on top of each other's dead bodies as though they're nothing of significance. I note each of their identities as I pass them and by the end I realise they have everyone. Everyone I love, everyone I care about or once cared about is dead.

My friends.

My parents.

My brothers.

My best friend.

My grandparents.

My neighbours.

My aunts and uncles.

My classmates.

My cousins.

Children who played on my street.

People who I'd played on my street with when I was a child.

My second and third cousins.

People I'm related to without knowing how.

Even my old primary school teachers.

All of them. Dead. The one thing they had in common –other than being dead-? Me.

This is my fault.

How can it not be when I'm the only one left?

So...why don't I feel anything?

Standing still, I try to find some emotion- anger, tears, grief, the feeling of guilt instead of a numb acceptance of it...anything, but it's futile. I feel nothing.

There's one pile left which is separate from the others, walking over I examine them closely, not caring about the smell.

There's a red haired girl here, she looks rather like...but what's Ginny Weasley got to do with me? She was two years ahead of me. She looks a bit different, her hair colour seems a bit too bright too but maybe that's just because she's dead and the lack of blood running in her veins brings out the redness a bit more. The male underneath her, he had black/brown hair...they got Harry Potter too. I wonder vaguely where his glasses are, he looks different without them-his eyes especially look duller...or is that too just because he's dead? There are three guys here I don't know, a plump one, one that looks as though he put up a fight before he died and one who death does absolutely nothing to detract from his beyond handsome looks. He looks like the protagonist of a tragic war story, I note.

A part of my mind register that my reaction isn't normal. My entire family is dead, my friends are dead, people I only know now as acquaintances are dead, people I've looked up to are dead and a few strangers I've never met are dead.

I should feel something. Anything.

Do I want to though? I just went through it, everyone I give a shit about is dead, and why would I want to face the sort of grief that comes alongside that? Maybe it would be better if I stayed like this, it's more practical.

Unless I die too of course. I can't bring myself to even care about what will happen to me, if I live, fine ad if I die, that's fine too... my life would be boring without everyone in it anyway.

Not knowing what to do with myself next I walk back over to the wall. I sit down, leaning my back and scraping it against the white bricks as I go down. I wonder what I tripped over before.

Casting my eyes over in the direction of the door I notice yet another body.

All I can see from here is that the body belongs to an unfortunate dark haired male. I think for a moment that it may be Tom but I remember seeing him next to Jamie in the second pile of people. With a morbid sense of curiosity I turned his body around and studied his face, after several seconds spent casting my mind back I come to the conclusion that I don't know this boy. Well not boy, but I can't say man either...I'd say he was somewhere in between, maybe around my age give or take a few years so for the sake of the sentence let's say guy. I don't know this guy either. He had quite a handsome face and jet black hair, looking into his open, blank eyes I note that his eyes were somewhere between blue and green, I couldn't say they were one more than the other, his eye colour was smack bang in the middle of the two. Brushing his hair out of eyes I realise that I'd probably have had a crush on him if I was ever to knew him. I feel a pang somewhere deep down for this bo-guy, I don't know why he's separate from the rest but I don't think he should be alone, even if it is in death so I sit next to him, with his body on my right hand side and my back against the wall.

I think for a while about what his name could be, but none of the normal boys names suits him, John, Ben, Tom, Daniel, Aaron, Dylan, Dominic, James, Niall, Matthew, Liam, Brian...none of them suited him. I think he'd have a name that's not unique but isn't common either, something sort of polished. I don't know what makes me think that, I'm probably just trying to keep my mind occupied.

Oh well, how about Richard? Hmm, Rich...mm no. It doesn't sound completely right. My eyes wonder subconsciously while I think and focus on the piles. It seems as though all their eyes are focused on me in a glare of accusation, it makes me feel nervous. Looking back at the guy I notice that his eyes are focused on me too in the same expression. I look away from him but it doesn't help, I know their eyes are still me and not just any eyes, among those staring at me with blank, accusing **dead** eyes are my mother and father, my best friend who I'd considered better than a sister, my confidants.

I feel something like bile rise in my throat and I push it back, refusing to be weak, but it won't be denied. Leaning over, I prepare myself to throw up yet again but it's not vomit that comes out, it's a cry that's followed closely by a loud, broken wail. I wonder numbly if that noise is coming from me and it's only the gaps in between the hysterical breakdown where I have to heave to catch some oxygen that I realise it is me the noise is coming from.

The part of my brain that's aware of what's going on and isn't numbed is getting stronger and stronger, everyone I love is dead and I'm suddenly very much aware of that. Dead because of me. My eyes close and my breath catches, I don't want it to come back. Let it stop. Let my life stop. Let this pain stop. I can't handle a lifetime of this pain and guilt, I can't handle the knowledge that I'm alone and for whatever reason it's entirely my fault.

I feel someone's hands on my shoulders shaking me.

"_Please kill me"_ I think "_Let me die with them, please let me die. I don't want to live. Please, please, please." _

They're shouting something at me, I think there may be more than one voice. They're hands move from my shoulders to my face, slapping my cheeks sharply, over and over again.

Ignoring them, I look at the poor guy next to me's face,

"I-I'm s-so sor-ry." I tell him, "I d-d-did-'nt mean fo-for you t-t-o d-d-ie, any o-o-f yo-u. It-it's m-my fault, I'm s-so so s-or-ry. I don't de-deser-ve to l-li-ve."

My parents are dead. **My parents**are dead. They're **dead.**What am I supposed to do without them?!

Hands grip me by the arms and shake me roughly. I don't want to see them, I clench my eyes closed and keep them that way, I don't want the last thing I see to be the face of the bastard that killed my parents and this guy and everyone I loved.

"KILL ME!" I scream at them "KILL ME, DO IT YOU PATHETIC FUCKING COWARD, I DON'T CARE! YOU KILLED THEM, YOU KILLED MY FAMILY, MY FRIENDS, YOU KILLED EVERYONE, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, **FUCK YOUU! **I HOPE YOU ROT IN FUCKING HELL, I HOPE YOU'RE RAPED BY EVERY DEMONIC BEING WITH A DICK. KILL ME, YOU FUCKING CUNT!"

It isn't until after I've finished screaming that I realise my arms are flying, attacking my assailant with my fists. It's not nearly what they deserve.

The arms let go of me and a bright white light illuminates the room and forces me to open my eyes. When I do, I see I'm not in that room anymore...blinking in shock I realise that I'm back in the white room I started off in, but I'm not alone. I'm surrounded by what look like Healers watching me warily while they come towards me with potions. I hit out at the one nearest to me,

"You bastards!" I hiss "You were all in on it too. Fuck you, fuck you all. I'm going to kill every last fucking one you!"

"Hold her down." One of them mutters.

"I hope Hitler holds you down while you're raped over and over again by Satan's dog you filthy bitch!"

She has the nerve to look thoroughly shocked as though she was expecting me to thank her for killing everyone in my life. Rage courses through me like I've never before known, I'm filled with the urge to strangle every ounce of life out of her scrawny little neck and my hands reach out to do exactly that but are interceded by a man who wraps his arms around me, trapping my arms beside me.

"Do it now." He barks at someone.

One of his lapdogs leaps forward at his orders with a needle in his hand and comes towards my neck; I snap my teeth at him when he gets near me causing him to stumble back.

Are you fucking kidding me, these people are bloody pathetic!

Apparently they were done playing nice, one of the other lapdogs, grabbed me and pushed me face down on the bed, pulling my arms behind my back. As much as I struggled I couldn't free them so I lashed out with my legs as well while I thrashed, trying to get him off me. Like fuck was I going without giving them hell.

"Hold her damn legs down for God's sake!" He sounded pissed off I thought with grim satisfaction. Good.

"Now, inject her." The man in charge ordered.

"Just kill me you fucking coward" I ground out. Everyone ignored me which pissed me off further, I thrash even more causing my dislocated shoulder to damage itself even more but ignoring the pain I don't stop.

I feel the needle against my neck just as the door opened, my eyes swivel in that direction and stood there are three people.

I watch as the old man with a long beard ordered everyone to stop and let go of me, but by that point the needle's already injected whatever it held into my system and the couple he was with, both almost elderly started yelling at the men who had been holding me down.

I barely noticed anything beyond the old man with the long beard. I don't notice the needle penetrating my skin and I don't notice the almost elderly couple shouting about morals and procedures and I don't notice the haziness that is swiftly overpowering my consciousness. What I notice is my headmaster. Not my current one, but the one who's death caused my current one to take his place. Albus Dumbledore, the man who was hit by the killing curse and thrown off of the astronomy tower in my 3rd year is alive.

"Well shit." I think I mumble as my consciousness fades away into a relieving nothingness.


End file.
